Tapout Page 8

  There wasn’t a window in the kitchen, but Alyson didn’t feel the need to mention that little piece of trivia. Instead, she smiled politely and nodded as she fixed herself a plate. “Looks good,” she said, noting the grease splattering the stovetop and counters surrounding it. Unavoidable, she supposed.

  “I was just telling Livvy that I could hang around a while and fix that before I leave,” Jason said amicably, picking up where he left off.

  Livvy? Alyson bit into a strip of bacon while analyzing him. He looked like a nice enough guy, she supposed. Leaning her hip against the counter in front of the sink, she lifted one shoulder. “If that’s what you want,” she told him. “It’s Liv’s place.”

  Jason gave her a curious look. “You don’t both live here?”

  She shook her head. Liv told him, “I tried to tell her, people these days are much more forgiving of our kind of love, but alas, I remain her dirty little secret.” She sighed forlornly.

  “Did you get dropped on your head as a child?” Alyson inquired, smirking and rolling her eyes.

  “No, I just wasn’t hugged enough.” Liv grinned, but the slight twist of her lips and the fleeting look of sadness in her eyes made Alyson wonder how much truth there was to that statement. Neither one of them talked about their families. They were each other’s only family. Had been that way for years.

  Jason looked between them, watching curiously in uncomfortable silence. “Are you two fighting?” Their gazes darted to his. “Sorry, it’s just hard to tell… since I don’t really know you…” he said slowly, looking at the two of them like he just realized he was a rabbit who had found himself in the middle of two hungry foxes.

  Liv shot him a wolfish smile, tagging him as her prey. “Oh, sweetie, this is what we consider foreplay.” Running her finger down his chest, she cut her eyes to Alyson and winked. “When you’re all done here, we’re going to... eat. You. Up. Rocko is going to love having a new person to play with.”

  “Who’s Rocko?”

  Alyson wanted to know that, too. She waited to hear Liv’s answer.

  “Rocko is our boyfriend.” Olivia’s eyes cut to Alyson, and the look she gave her served as a silent invitation to help her out.

  Alyson cleared her throat and straightened her stance. “Yeah, boyfriend. Big guy. Lots of muscles.”

  Olivia shook her head, a small movement that was hardly noticeable. “You’ll like him,” she assured Jason. “He’s been waiting for me to find another person to add to our bed.”

  Jason swallowed hard. “You mean, like… to watch, right?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Oh, no, sweetie. Rocko likes to play, too.”

  Jason’s eyes widened, fear rippling from him in thick waves. Suddenly starving, he shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth and shoved from his chair.

  “Where are you going?” Liv asked him, humor lighting her eyes. The little devil.

  Alyson leaned to the side so Jason could reach past her and dump his plate in the sink. When he looked at them, his discomfort was obvious. “I just remembered that I have this… uh… thing… I have to do…”

  “What about my hood?” Jason stared blankly back at Olivia, and Alyson snickered under her breath. “The hood,” she reminded him, pointing to it over his shoulder. “It’s broken? You said you would fix it.”

  Jason blinked. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I mean, I can do that.” He cleared his throat. “My, uh, tools are in the car. I’ll go get them.”

  He started toward the front door. “Hey, Jason?” Liv called out to him. He spun around with a question in his eyes. “You might want some clothes.”

  He looked down at the shamrocks on his boxers and rushed for the bedroom. It took him less than a minute before he was dressed and out the door, minus his shirt. Olivia looked at Alyson. “He’s not coming back,” Alyson informed her.

  “I know.”

  Alyson asked the burning question. “So, Rocko, huh?”

  Olivia shrugged. “He sucked in the sack. And he was clingy. I figured that would light a fire under him.”

  He seemed nice enough to her, but Alyson was glad that he was gone all the same. A one-night stand wasn’t supposed to come with strings, and jumping into another relationship so soon after her breakup with Spencer wasn’t a good idea. “Did you see how his eyes bugged out?”

  “He ran out of here so fast that he forgot to get his shirt back,” Olivia said, plucking at the dark shirt she wore.

  Alyson’s lips twitched. “He was probably afraid Rocko was going to show up and make him his new plaything.”

  They exploded in laughter that brought tears to their eyes. And then Alyson’s phone chimed and her good mood evaporated like the heat of the sun burning away a thick fog replacing it with a swarm of nervous butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

  “Jami?” Olivia asked her when she registered her pensive expression.

  Alyson nodded. Setting her plate of unfinished food down, she walked toward the living room to give herself some privacy.

  “I take it he didn’t get your messages last night.” Glancing over her shoulder, Alyson caught the teasing smile Olivia wore, and felt her cheeks redden.

  “You know about that?”

  “Honey, who do you think took those pictures?” Alyson covered her face with her hands and released a sound of embarrassment. “Can I just say that you have a nice rack? Jami’s a lucky man.”

  Dropping her hands, Alyson sent her a fierce glare of warning and stomped away with Liv calling after her, “Hey, when you’re finished talking to lover boy, get dressed. I have some place I want to show you.”

  Grumbling, Alyson found her phone, checking to see who was calling, even though she knew who it would be. When Jami’s smiling face appeared on the screen, her stomach twisted into knots. Drawing in a deep breath, she pressed the phone to her ear and gave a shaky greeting.

  “Holy shit,” Jami exclaimed. “Now that’s what I call a wake-up call. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  Alyson felt the smile blooming on her face. “Good morning to you, too.”

  ELEVEN

  Who knew growing up that one day Ally would be the one he sought after when he needed comfort? He’d thought after losing track of one another that reality was lost to him, but that was no longer the case. When everything around him was going to shit, talking to Ally was the highlight of his day. A very nice highlight. One he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  The little vixen had sent him nudie pics and dozens of texts. The ones that he could actually read started out telling him how much she missed and loved him, which made his chest swell with male pride. There were no better words when his mood and entire outlook on life were both face down in the gutter. When each text became progressively more sexual, highlighting some of the things she wanted to do to him, with him, what she wanted him to do to her, he nearly had heart failure. And then the pictures came in, and despite his piss poor mood, Jami was hard as a rock. Ally tempted him as no other woman could. He had to call her, just to hear the sound of her voice.

  They talked for a short time, shorter than he would have liked, before Jami was forced to hang up. He carried the memory of her soft, sweet voice with him when he met up with Don later in Spencer’s room to fill Coach in on what was going on. Don was understandably pissed, but that anger was amplified when Jami informed them both that his cards had been declined. A simple call revealed that someone had been drawing small cash advances for months, and when he failed to pay on the cards, they’d taken action and blocked any further purchases. Two guesses as to who was behind it.

  Jami had rarely used the cards and had never received any notices, but when he questioned the representative over the phone, he was informed of duplicate cards. Again, he had no knowledge of this, but it explained a little. The rest he had to get from the source. When he questioned Spencer about it, he closed his eyes and dropped his head.

  “I took the statements and hid them from you. I thought I could make th
e minimum payments and buy a little more time. The bets were supposed to pay off,” he said, issuing the same words Jami had already heard the night before. “You weren’t supposed to find out. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” he keened. “I don’t know how everything got so fucked up!”

  Don’s face was mottled red, and his meaty fists were clenched at his sides. He stepped up, looking ready to pounce, but held back at the last minute. Through clenched teeth, he snarled, “Because you’re a stupid fucking piece of shit, that’s how.”

  Spencer lifted his head, and Jami saw the hurt reflected in his red-rimmed eyes. When Jami might have backed down, Don pushed forward.

  “Is this how you show your friendship? After everything you kids have been through together, this is how you repay him?” He jabbed a finger at Jami. “He has been beside you through thick and thin, has helped you just as much as you have helped him to survive in this world, and you rip him off? I’m sure you think you were doing something noble, but you weren’t. This was the most selfish act you could have performed. You put his career, all of our careers, on the line, and for what? Kicks? I should wring your neck right now.”

  “Do it,” Spencer challenged, but his words weren’t meant to insult. He looked like he really wanted Don to hurt him. “Kill me. Everything you said is true. I’m a piece of shit, and I don’t deserve to be called anyone’s friend.” His strained gaze cut to Jami. “You should have cut me loose a long time ago. I’m so sorry, man.” He hanged his head again, leaving Don and Jami standing there watching him in silence.

  “So, what do we do now?” Jami directed the question at Don, hoping he had some kind of solution tucked up his sleeve, because he had no idea. Not a single one.

  Don crossed his arms and shook his head, his eyes glued to the top of Spencer’s head. “What kind of trouble are we looking at here? How deep does this thing go?”

  Keeping his head down, Spencer muttered, “It’s deep. I owe twenty-five grand to Marco Maretti.”

  Don released a loud curse and spun away. Jami recognized the wild look in his eyes. He wanted to punch something. Hell, so did Jami.

  “Marco expects half by tomorrow,” Jami told him, and Don’s eyes widened in shock.

  “Half? Where the fuck are we supposed to get twelve grand? Do you have that kind of money lying around? Cause I sure as hell don’t.”

  Jami stared steadily back at him. “I have some money. Not the full amount, but enough to cover a little more than half.”

  Spencer’s head lifted again and the look he gave Jami was part hopeful and a part something he couldn’t identify. “Where did you get that kind of cash?”

  Jami gave him a blank look. “It’s called working hard and saving up.”

  At least Spencer had the grace to look ashamed. “What were you saving up for?” he asked quietly.

  No way in hell was Jami going to tell him that he had hoped to use that money to start the next stage of his life. One that, hopefully, Ally would want to be a part of... Now that this shit was going down, those plans were pretty much blown to hell. “None of your concern, my friend.”

  Spencer grimaced. “Some friend I’ve been. How can you even still call me that?”

  “Must be habit,” Jami volleyed back.

  “What about the rest of it?” Don questioned. “When is that due?”

  “End of next week,” Jami supplied, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on his shoulders. He wanted to help Spencer, because there really was no other option for him, but he had barely more than fifteen grand in the bank. He was trying to build credit, hence the credit cards. However, with them maxed out and late payments due, there was no way the bank would consider giving him a loan for the rest. And what would he tell them anyway—that he owed a gambling debt? That left them ten thousand short, and he had enough experience with men like Marco to know that excuses didn’t matter.

  “What if I met with this Marco character, talked to him, see if I can buy us some more time?”

  Jami and Spencer shook their heads at the same time. “No good,” Spencer supplied. “He already gave me an extension once, and I got the snot beat out of me just for asking.”

  Jami thought back to the night when Liv had told him and Ally about Spencer spinning a line about being jumped, and all his cash stolen. He wondered if that was when he’d asked for more time. He didn’t care to raise the question. What was done was done. Now they just needed to figure out a way to fix this and move forward.

  Don glared at Spencer, and if Jami didn’t know any better, he’d say Don hated Spencer’s guts. Hell, he just might. If Jami hadn’t always considered him a brother, he’d probably be feeling the same way. “Man, when you fuck up, you don’t hold anything back, do you?”

  It was meant as a rhetorical question, but Spencer answered anyway. “You know what they say, go big or go home.”

  “Yeah, and you’ll be lucky if you don’t go home in a body bag. What the hell were you thinking, son?” The endearment told Jami that Don was letting go of some of the anger. Just like him, he was more hurt and upset at the situation than filled with hate over it.

  “I wasn’t,” Spencer said as he looked down at his Chucks.

  Silence filled the room as they all considered the heap of shit they were in. Don clapped his hands together. “All right, so here’s what we’ve got. Twelve five is due tomorrow. Jami, can you pull that kind of cash?”

  Jami thought about it and nodded. “If I call the bank today, yeah, I can have it wired.”

  “Good. Then that part is taken care of. We have less than a week to come up with the rest. I can cash in my life insurance policy, so that’s at least another three, leaving us with nine. I’d ask if you have anything to put into the pot, but I think we all know you don’t,” Don directed snidely at Spencer. Jami didn’t care how bad it might have made him feel. He’d made his bed.

  “What about Alyson,” Don asked, looking at Jami again.

  Jami’s eyes narrowed a fraction. He asked cautiously, “What about her?”

  “Does she have any money she could loan you?”

  Jami bristled. “I’m not asking her for money.”

  “You might not want to, but you might have to,” Don reasoned. “Unless you don’t care about Spencer being quartered and getting dumped into a ravine somewhere.”

  “Jesus,” Spencer cursed at the visual. “I didn’t need to hear that.”

  “Yes, boy, you did.” Don pinned him with his steel gaze. “You need to understand just how heavy all of this is. That way, when we come out on the other side of this nightmare, you won’t be tempted to do it again.”

  Jami knew that it wouldn’t be that easy, though. Spencer was an addict, and the threat of being harmed wasn’t always enough to make an addict see the light. Spencer had already been beaten, and that hadn’t fazed him. Now, this. He wasn’t sure which way it would go once this situation was cleared up, but he had a feeling that it was nothing more than slapping a bandage on a wound that needed a double row of stitches.

  “So, what do you say?” Don asked Jami. “You going to suck it up and ask your girlfriend to help us out here?”

  Don had never had any use for Ally before, but now that she was needed? Well, he didn’t seem to have any qualms about using her. “I don’t want her mixed up in this.” Jami had always protected Ally from the worst life had to throw at her. He wasn’t about to drag her square in the middle of the shit storm heading their way now.

  “No one said she has to be,” Don returned. “All we need from her is the money. She doesn’t need to know what it’s going for.”

  He had a point. Jami thought it over. He didn’t know what he could say, or even if she had that kind of money to give. Ally lived in a small apartment because she spent most of her earnings helping out others. How could he ask her to give him what little she had left over? And what kind of man did that make him? But he didn’t see where he had much of a choice. They were several thousand sho
rt and needed the money fast. “Fine, I’ll ask her, but I can’t make any guarantees. She might not even have it.”

  “Good.” Don nodded, looking relieved, and Jami realized that he wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure. “I think we should check with Olivia, too, while we’re at it. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

  Spencer was shaking his head. “No, we’re not bringing Liv into this. I won’t allow it.”

  “You don’t have a choice!” Don exploded, making Jami and Spencer jump. “You created this, and now it’s up to me and Jami to fix it. However we see fit.”

  “I don’t want her in this,” Spencer snarled, baring his teeth. It was the first time in a long time that Jami had seen him react with anything other than indifference.

  “And you think he wants Alyson to be a part of this? Do you think any of us wants any part of this? Unless you have a better plan, then I suggest you shut your damn mouth.”

  Spencer looked away, not saying anything. Eventually, Don’s shoulders relaxed, descending from his ears to rest in their natural spot. He took a deep breath. “Right, so we have a plan.” He looked up at Jami with a resigned expression. “Fight is in a couple hours. Get ready and meet me in the gym. We need to go over a few more things before we head out.”

  Jami nodded and followed Don out of the room, leaving Spencer sitting on the bed looking like a lost, empty shell of the man he knew. He just hoped that when this was over, his friend would still be in there somewhere.

  TWELVE

  Alyson found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. She never knew she was afraid of being shot, but holy cow, what a time to figure it out. “This is what you wanted to show me?” she shouted as she dropped to the floor, narrowly missing being shot in the face. Thank heavens the stoner at the counter had given them a face mask. Alyson rolled for cover behind a giant, inflatable object. Her adrenaline was running so high that every muscle in her body was shaking.

  “Isn’t it fun?”

  When Olivia said that she wanted to show her something, Alyson never imagined she would find herself holding a gun and suited up from head to toe in protective padding. She felt ridiculous at first. For being a girl, she wasn’t overly feminine, but paintball had always seemed to her to be more of a guy thing. She could certainly envision Jami getting into it. Yet, she had to admit, there was a certain sense of power that came with holding a gun, even if not loaded with real bullets.